


art kid swag

by pastel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, M/M, Other, art kids au, im so sorry this is terrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4190253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastel/pseuds/pastel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>akaashi is a photographer, ennoshita is a director wannabe with no cameraman. they meet one night and become friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	art kid swag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [medeadea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/medeadea/gifts).



Keiji thumbs the strap of his yellow kanken, half examining the art around him, half keeping an eye out for anyone interesting-looking enough to warrant a picture. There’s no one suitable in this room and the art isn’t even all that great, so he turns and leaves. He supposes that he was maybe expecting too much of a neighborhood art walk.

Keiji looks at the several collages hanging on the walls of this new hallway. They’re each no bigger than his hand, but even from this distance he can see that they must be made of at least fifty tiny cutouts each. They seem to be telling a story, as he moves from one to the next. He reaches the last one and turns, hoping to find the artist. Instead, Keiji sees something perfect.

Muscle memory has Keiji pressing the capture button on the camera looped around his neck before he even realizes he’s doing it. This was what had gotten Keiji so far in his field while still so young - the ability to see what would make an amazing picture and the reflexes to take them.

 The smile that had caught his attention disappears, a look of confusion taking its place. Keiji takes in the owner of that smile; a rather average-looking person in all respects - short, slightly tanned, messy black hair in a side part - but Keiji finds the other man’s sheer normalcy almost breathtaking. The petite blond girl beside the man breaks the silence. Keiji hadn't even realized she was there.

“Are you Keiji Akaashi?” It’s more of a shout than a question and the girl’s face practically erupts into a bright red blush after she closes her mouth. Keiji nods, perhaps now just as confused as the man he photographed. It's still strange to be called by his first name; he hasn't adapted to American customs. The girl’s eyes widen. “I-I’m Yachi Hitoka! I’m a big fan!” She says, dipping her head in greeting. When she’s entirely upright again, her blush is gone and she nudges the man in the side. “This is my cousin, Chikara Ennoshita, he’s the one who did all those collages you were looking at. I’m really proud of him!”

Keiji nods again. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Yachi, Chikara. I hope you don’t mind I took a photo of you?” Hitoka shakes her head ‘no’, a small smile on her face. The man - Chikara - finally speaks. “But, if you don’t mind, could we see?” He sounds almost as calm as Keiji himself, so much so that Keiji wants to think it’s passive aggression.

 “Of course not.” Keiji lifts the camera from around his neck, makes sure it’s displaying the right picture, and gently hands the camera to Chikara. Yachi’s jaw drops in awe; Keiji can’t help but feel very pleased with himself. Chikara bites his lip. "I actually look good here." He mutters, still staring at the camera screen.

Keiji smiles. "That's my job, after all. Make things look beautiful." He says, taking the camera back from the pair. "Keiji's a professional photographer from Japan!" Yachi says to Chikara, not so quiet that Keiji can't hear them. She turns to face Keiji himself.

"Are you working on anything right now?" He shakes his head. "I'm afraid finding work wasn't as easy as I thought it was going to be when I got here." He gives a sad laugh. It's true, he expected his reputation to help a little more than it had, but America is a much bigger country than Japan and he hasn't really been working that hard at finding a job. It's his own fault, really.

Chikara seems to perk up. "I, er, well, would you mind getting some coffee with us? I'd - we'd - love to talk to you a little bit more and this place is almost closing up anyways?" He sounds cautiously optimistic.

Keiji glances at his watch. It reads 9:45 on a silver face. "Sure." He smiles again, just so they won't feel like they're forcing him into it.

Yachi leads the way to a back door Keiji assumes was for the artists only. She holds the door open, then takes the lead again. The sun is setting, and there's a breeze in the summer air. Her black dress flounces underneath her heart patterned cardigan. Keiji walks slower, and once he's far enough behind, he takes another picture. Only then he notices Chikara leaning over to see, just close enough that his chest is barely touching Keiji's shoulder. It's a strange feeling; Keiji can feel the rise and fall as Chikara breathes, the patch of skin, burning hot three layers of clothes away, touching then going away again. It's distracting, to say the least.

"Hey! What's taking you guys so long?" Yachi asks, running back towards them. She has to get up on her tiptoes to see the camera screen. "Wow, Keiji, you really are good at taking photos! It's not blurry or anything," Yachi praises, "but if we're going to get coffee then let's go!"

She grabs them both by the arm and starts skipping. This, too, is a strange feeling. It's not quite friendship, not yet. He decides to call it comradery.

The coffeeshop she leads them to is one Keiji doesn't recognize. Not that he recognizes much in this strange Californian landscape anyways. It's quaint, though, as coffeeshops tend to be. The barista at the counter looks exhausted, eyebags a mile deep; his nametag reads ‘toribio’.

“What can I get you?” He asks, leaning on the counter. He yawns. Yachi spouts off two overly complex orders that only seem to make Toribio’s eyelids droop further, then looks back at Keiji. “J-just a cappucino.” It seems like a crime to order anything more complicated.

Toribio nods and asks if they'll be paying separately, but Chikara hands him a card before anyone else can make a move. This seems to be how things will work among the three of them- forcefully kind actions before anyone else can make a move.

Yachi shrugs and picks a table in the corner even though they're the only customers in the shop. "So." She whispers conspiratorially, "Actually, I'll let Chikara explain." She smiles, all teeth. On anyone else it would've been ominous, but Yachi's been so well meaning Akaashi can't believe they're trying anything bad.

Chikara returns from paying and sits across from Keiji, next to Yachi. She pulls his head down to whisper something in his ear. Keiji watches as the other man's face cycles through a series of emotions. First shock, followed by something that looked like denial, a recognizably flustered blush, ending with a deep breath and a straight face.

"Um..." Yachi bumps Chikara with her shoulder. "I'm- I want to create a short film and would you please be my videographer?" It's obvious that he's trying to keep his words understandable, not have them all run together into an unrecognizable collection of sounds.

Keiji is flattered, to say the least. "Well, I've never really done video except for projects back in highschool..." he considers the idea awhile longer, "Do you have the equipment?"

Chikara nods, twice. "We just didn't have enough people - this was all Yachi's idea, after she saw you."

Toribio arrives just as a smile unfurls across Keiji's face, paper cups of coffee in his hands. "We're closing up in an hour," he grunts out, setting the three drinks on the table. Keiji grabs a drink at random and takes a sip, hoping its his. He wants to try and do something cool, here.

It's not even coffee. It's some kind of flowery tea, he hears his mother's voice say chamomile, that has Keiji wanting to gag. Nonetheless, he swallows it down and says "yes".

It is only after Chikara and Yachi start smiling so hard they look like they might start crying does Keiji admits he's gotten the wrong drink. It ends up being Chikara's, but he says he doesn't mind.

The cousins end up telling him all about the plot, the filming location, the actors and crew. Before long Keiji finds himself suppressing laughs over people he doesn't even know - a short college student named Shouyou, Chikara's scary assistant with no eyebrows, a man terrified of the abandoned house they're filming in called Asahi, who Yachi describes as looking like a half-Japanese, half-Iranian version of Jesus.

Over their shoulders he sees Toribio glaring at them, and he suggests they leave. Yachi smiles apologetically at the barista when they leave, too wide, almost a wince.

"Ah, Keiji, can I have your phone number?" Chikara asks once they're outside. Keiji fumbles for his phone; he doesn't have his new number memorized yet. He pulls his number up and shows the screen to Chikara. Within seconds there's a little ring signalling a new text. "You type fast," Keiji remarks, reading the 'now we have each others numbers C:'. Chikara laughs.

"What time is it?" Yachi asks, looking at the mostly abandoned streets and dark sky. Keiji sees '11:57' in the corner of the phone screen and finds himself surprised. "Almost midnight," he answers, "I should probably get home."

Yachi and Chikara wave goodbye and walk the opposite direction as Keiji.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so SO sorry this is so short and not really that shippy. Im actually in the process of moving so maybe when I'm done I might add onto this? again, I'm really really sorry


End file.
